Category — mistake

My camera was MIA all weekend. I missed taking pics of Kateri leaving to go back to school and snapping pics of the 3 different St. Greg’s boys that we’ve encountered since Friday. We had 2 boys overnight on Friday and one is staying until Wednesday and we met up with another at church on Sunday. I can’t believe that they are all visiting while JJ is away!

But I found the camera again and decided to snap a pic of the project I was working on. Gabi brought home this “Beautiful Butterfly” a few days ago and promptly dropped it on the ground, while trying to show it to one of her sisters. I scooped up the pieces and told her I’d buy some Super Glue and get it put back together. I should’ve known better! I’m classically clumsy-it’s just a fact! And why I thought I could take on anything that had to do with broken glass AND a super-strength glue, I simply don’t know. After successfully gluing the first piece of the wing on, I was feeling pretty confident. Then I cut the tip of my finger on a sharp piece, dripped the glue all over my hand and the other pieces, effectively glueing them (let me rephrase-SUPER GLUING) them to the bowl and having to throw the entire thing away, bowl and all. Of course I hid it all under other trash and had it taken out. Not sure what my explanation is going to be.

How this house has stayed intact and these kiddos have thrived under my butter-fingered guidance, I’ll never know.

~sigh~

So…it’s the week before my high schoolers go back to school. This means sports tryouts. Arianna is trying out for tennis and volleyball. Her first passion is volleyball, but she wants a back-up plan to keep her moving. I give her a TON of credit! She hasn’t played tennis since 4th grade! I LOVE her drive and self-confidence. I wish I would have had it at her age. She tries new things all the time, gives them her all and is largely successful! I’m so proud of her!

My lil kiddos head back to school in a couple of weeks and that means back-to-work for M.O.M. I’ll be aiding in the preschool again. I really enjoyed my time there last year and can’t wait to get to know a new group of preschoolers! Of course this means I’ve got to get used to the crazy schedule of crockpotting every dinner and having everyone (myself included) dressed and ready for the day before 7:30 am. Whew! Doing the Dance for sure!

So, I’m going to try to enjoy my last couple weeks of morning Boot Camp and the “Lazy Days of Summer” (anyone seen those?) and then jump into the whole routine like a pro double-dutcher.

Wish me luck!

I was getting dinner into the crock pot and it called for a can of Cream of Mushroom soup. No problem! I went to the cupboard and pulled one out, opened it up and discovered Cream of Chicken inside. So I went back to the cupboard took out a can of Cream of Chicken, opened it up and discovered Cream of Chicken inside. I had to open 3 cans before I actually got Cream of Mushroom.

Hey Target-someone needs to check the product/label issue!

Doing the Dance of the Children and Just Trying to get some Dinner Made~

I promise that my very next post will be full of pictures and descriptions of all the great things surrounding JJ’s graduation. It was very touching and a truly wonderful experience. However, right now there’s an adventure happening and I thought you’d want to hear about it.

After checking my itinerary with today’s scheduled rugby game, I realized that it would be best if I left for the airport, right after mass. This way, Clay would be able to see the rugby game, even though I would have to miss it. I’d be a couple hours early for my flight, but I was sure the time would pass quickly. JJ and Kateri both urged me to miss my flight and take my chances on getting another, but I felt that it would be better (though sad) to miss the game and get home late tonight and have tomorrow to recoup and be ready for work on Tuesday. So I said my good-byes to JJ and wished him well for his big, biking trip through parts of Spain and France (more on that in the graduation blog) and headed for the airport. I passed the time with my phone and my computer and soon realized that maybe TOO MUCH time had gone by. “Why haven’t I heard anything about boarding?” I glanced at the board about 20 minutes before my plane was scheduled to leave and saw that it was now delayed by and hour and a half. “What?! I could’ve stayed for the game!…What about my connecting flight? Flights?!” I checked my itinerary, uttered a little prayer and waited for the plane. Once it got there and we were off, I really started to get nervous about the next flight. But they offered us complimentary adult beverages for our trouble and I decided I wasn’t so nervous after-all.

FINALLY-Detroit! I had 20 minutes until my next plane was to take off! EEK!!!!! I was in concourse C and needed to get to concourse A. I made it in 14 minutes flat-dress, 3 inch heels, 2 bags and chaffed thighs aside. Seriously, I am NO runner but I haven’t moved that fast since one of my toddlers ran into the road with a car coming. I was beginning to think I should register for the Rock n Roll marathon…Ok, now I’m getting all Walter Mittyish on it (”ta pockata pockata pockata”…no better movie for visions of grandeur!). Let’s just say that I was surprised that I made it as far as I did, under those conditions, that quickly. I made it to the plane and hoped there wouldn’t be anymore running when I got to Minneapolis.

My hopes were dashed! We got in and taxied to the other side of the airport. We were late and there was, indeed, running! I got to my gate with 2 minutes to spare. NOPE! The plane had left. “Um…I needed that plane.” I was told that I was rescheduled for another flight…TOMORROW. Tomorrow?! “Hey Delta, it was your plane that was late, that ended up getting me here late. How do you propose you fix this?” So, after my workout, I was rewarded with a night at a local hotel…by myself…with my computer…and a TV…and no one I have to wake up for tomorrow morning…hmmm…maybe all that running wasn’t so bad after-all.

So, my oldest has been gracious enough to agree to keep everything running smoothly, for one more day (boy, do I owe her!) and she suggested I do something unusual, like…relax, sleep-in, enjoy some uninterrupted computer time. I think I’ll take her up on it!

So tomorrow I’ll share all the wonderful things about my second oldest graduating and moving onto his next phase of life. Tonight, I’m signing off and forgetting about schedules.

Doing the Dance of the Children via Delegation to My Oldest…but just for one more day~

Yesterday evening I decided to take the 4 youngest kiddos to the rec center park by our house. They got their bikes, scooters,skate boards and helmets and were raring to go. I just needed to grab something out of the car before we went over. So, I opened the back, grabbed what I needed and shut door. The second I shut it I knew I was in trouble. I immediately tried to reopen it, but the “click” of the lock had already been heard. And with that, my keys were inside. Wait, not only the keys to the VW, but to the van as well. Great!

I decided to still walk the kids over to use the rest of the daylight to play and I could call for the car to be unlocked after I was home.

Playtime over, kids in bath and the phone call for the car made…

When the tow truck guy got to the house he assured me that not only does this happen all the time, but that it’s quick and easy to get it open. After-all, in all of his time of doing this, there’s only been 1 car that he hasn’t been able to open and that was because it had a special kind of lock.

40 minutes later he called for back up.

So now, I had 2 tow truck guys (one who looked like he had SURELY opened every car imaginable) working to get my car open. They tried 3 doors, with various tools and still my keys laid their taunting us. After an hour and much frustration the car finally gave in and let them in.

I’m just thankful that this happened in my driveway and not in a parking lot somewhere! And yes, another set of keys is in order.

Have a great day~

I’m just back from the unhappy experience of being at the dentist. Now, don’t get me wrong-I’m very happy to be ABLE to go to the dentist. I know that I need to be grateful for dental coverage. But the appointment and the reason behind it were NOT happy events.

So, let’s go back about 3 years and I’ll tell my tale…

Chapter 1

Pain! Lots of pain while chewing and drinking. Hot-ouch! Cold-ouch! Something must be wrong. I think I’ll ignore it. After-all, I DO have 2 sides to my mouth and only 1 of them is painful. Solution-simply use the other side…only! This chapter lasted about a year.

Chapter 2

Pain! Too much pain! It’s time to call the dentist. I’ve been avoiding one side of my mouth for about a year and there really must be something that should be done. Right? So, I made the dreaded phone call (mind you, I take the kids to the dentist regularly. But for myself, there always seems to be a good excuse.) and scheduled an appointment. At the appointment I was severely scolded for having waited so long and informed that I was in need of a root canal.

~DREAD~

The procedure was scheduled and carried out. It was a 2 appointment procedure. I was told that all went well. ~sigh of relief~

Now…let’s forget about my stupid teeth and get on with life! And THAT is JUST what I did.

Chapter 3

Pain!

Why oh why is there pain in the area of the tooth that had the root canal?! I MUST have something stuck. Better floss EXTRA well…again and again and again.  And that is just what I did.

Over the next 4 months I would have that thought from time to time. I’d floss, brush, rinse and then forget about it until it bugged me again. 2 weeks ago my tooth decided to talk to me and tell me it was no longer going to allow me to ignore it. I spoke gently to it saying, “be well little tooth. You have had a root canal and are fine. You may look different from my other teeth, but you’re going to be ok. I will give you a break and I’ll (once again) chew on the other side of my mouth. Will that make you happy?” Little tooth quieted down and enjoyed the rest. But 4 days ago it yelled at me saying, “STOP ignoring me and patronizing me! I don’t want rest. I want attention!” Then the gum around the tooth started to swell. After 1 day of swelling and pain I called the dentist (on a Sunday). I explained everything and was put on antibiotics until I could come in for an appointment.

Appointment time! So…the dentist greeted me and got right to work. “Oh. Oh my. Let’s get an x-ray of this. My my…Oh Mrs. Lang, this is not good. Let me show you”.

My tooth has broken…in half and must be removed! Apparently that root canal was to be followed by a crown. This was an appointment I never made and frankly, forgot about. Now, here I am 2 years later facing oral surgery and the removal of a tooth that can not be saved. I’m more than a little freaked out!

Chapter 4 to come soon. I must stay on the antibiotics until the surgery, so you can bet it will be in a week or so.

*grumbling* Have a great day~

After everyone had dinner, I decided to try to grab 5 minutes to myself and retreated to my room. I should’ve known better!

“I didn’t do it!”

Lex’s cinnamon-covered clothing

Bath time !

Last night I came into the kitchen to find bubbles pouring out of the dishwasher.  I knew right away that Maddi had put liquid dishsoap into the washer.

~Sigh~

This is one of those lessons that each of the kids seem to need to learn on their own.  So, I called her in, turned off the washer and handed her a bucket and a cup and told her to start baling out the bubbles and water.  To her credit, she did a great job of cleaning it all up and the dishes were extra clean by the time they got washer properly.

Had to laugh though because it was reminiscent of a movie scene.

Maddi, keeping her sense of humor and blowing the bubbles

Good night~

This evening we took the kids to an event, put on by the Family Readiness Group (FRG), that was at our local Chuck E. Cheese.  The kids had a great time and being a week night, the place was almost empty.  We used to take the older kids to Chuck E. Cheese every once in awhile, but as they’ve grown and the younger kiddos have come along, we’ve found ourselves going less and less.  This event had me thinking about those days when I would clip coupons and look for a great deal for a family day out.  All this thinking led me to remember a paper that Clay wrote on the very subject and with his permission I am going to reprint it here.  It was written about 4 years ago which means that Luke-Xavier, who enjoyed himself immensely tonight, hadn’t even joined the family yet!

First, here are a few pics of the kiddos having fun

the boys with Chuck E.

Luke-Xavier using ALL the blue sprinkles on his cookie

Clay, caught enjoying his time at Chuck E. Cheese

Enjoy the story!

It was a lazy, late Sunday morning at the Lang household.  We were in and out of Church early.  My obligations for the day were fulfilled.  I was looking forward to a quiet afternoon of couch, chips and collisions.  The collision part meaning playoff football.  My wife, Jenni, was clipping coupons out of the Sunday paper.  My last peaceful moment of the day was broken with Jenni’s exclamation, “hey, a coupon.”

Still not quite knowing that my peaceful universe was about to be shredded, I replied with a well meaning, if slightly sarcastic, “Well, honey, that IS what you are doing, right?  Clipping coupons?”  “Well, yes, but this one gave me an idea,” my beautiful bride innocently replied.

Warning alarms blared in my head.  In my marital experience “I have an idea” ranks up there with “I’ve been thinking.”  I quickly switched over to survival mode, slowly, surreptitiously, sinking into the couch.  My attention switched to overdrive; suddenly everything Howie Long had to say was of global importance.  My survival depended on it.  Please Howie, take me away!  I had become a fox, securely hidden in the remotest depths of my den.

My bride, having a bit of marital experience as well, quickly turned into a foxhound and charged into my den, dragging me back out.  “No, this is really a good idea,” she bayed.  With a morbid fascination compelling me to ascertain the instrument of my destruction, I asked the question, “Ok, what is your idea?”

“Well, this coupon is a, “buy a large deluxe pizza, get another for free.”  Plus, you get 40 free tokens,” she started…. Tokens?  I thought, Pizza?  That could only mean…  “At Chuck-E-Cheese,” she finished.  “So I was thinking (first, an idea and now, thinking – I’m hosed), being you don’t have anything going on, why don’t you take the kids?”

OH SHT!  I panicked.  Well, I would love to take them honey.  Except I just accidentally jammed both my thumbs into my eyes and swirled them around in the sockets so actually I have to go to the hospital now.  Or maybe I could just lay here on the couch and recover; perhaps I could just listen to the game until the pain goes away.  No, that won’t work Clay.  Nope, the best defense is a great offense.  Remember who you are:  Lieutenant Commander Clay Lang.  Naval Aviator, Ranger School graduate, Reconnaissance Marine, member of the team who took down the soccer stadium in Mogadishu, bringer of stability and security to East Timor, the man who flew into the pitch black dark to rescue (wait, I already told you that one), and most importantly, the Lord and Master of my domain.  Time to bring the offense and exert some AUTHORITY around here.

“HEEELLL No!”  I exploded.  “If you think that I’m going to give up my day off, my chance at a couple of beers and playoff football to go to some commercialized pizza joint run by a big rat you need to think again.”  I told her.  And now for the finale – I’ll sure tell her, “Take the kids to Chuck-E-Cheese, you must be out of your dang mind!”

So I’m driving the kids to the Chuck-E-Cheese on Sports Arena Drive.  I have shoe horned all eight children into the Suburban – sometimes I think I am the only person in San Diego who has a legitimate requirement for a full-sized SUV.  There is some initial squabbling about who sits where, but I quickly rectify that by breaking out the seating chart.  I am still hopeful that there will be some ruckus that will enable me to at least threaten to turn the car around, but my luck has already been shattered by a coupon in the Sunday paper.  The eerie, uncannily quiet trip is one I would imagine being similar to the last stroll of a Death Row Inmate.

We arrive.  That commercialized, magical place where “a kid can be a kid.”  And a parent can lose his mind.  The kids have already run ahead and by the time I arrive they are being held at the end of a long entrance area, the “safety stop.”  Security checkpoint, I thought as the fraulein in the green and red polyester getup begins her interrogation.  “Are these all yours?” she asks.  “Yes, but there have been rumors.”  I innocently reply.  There is no mistaking them for my children as they all have one common trait, the it just got flattened with a frying pan, nose.  She looks up at me from under her ring-adorned eyebrows.  She is not amused.  What do I care?  I thought.  I’m not the one wearing a hat with a big rat on it.  Eager to strengthen our new bond, I ask her while she is affixing matching plastic security bracelets if they ever thought of just micro chipping everyone.  After receiving the “gee, I’ve never heard that one before” look, I decide it’s time to move to the register.

Ordering time.  A few pizzas, drinks for everyone, and let’s not forget, more tokens.  And the total is – wait I have a coupon – sixty-five dollars.  As I shell out the cash, I notice a birthday party winding down.  Much of the food has been left, the kids have been too busy running around, losing their minds.  Even half the cake is left.  I humorously ask if I can cancel my order and just take over where they left off.  I again get the look beneath the big rat hat.  She hasn’t heard that one before, either.

Now the fun begins.  As I try to herd the kids into a yet unbussed booth large enough for everyone I spy a recently vacated high chair belonging to a family preparing to depart.  I politely ask if they are done with it.  Again, the look.  At this point I am starting to wonder if I have an enormous phallus growing straight out of my forehead.  “When we’re done with it,” I’m chastised.  As I go to check on my children, the family departs and a mom quickly swoops in on the high chair.  I’m out of luck.  Well I’ll just hold Gabbi (age 1) I thought, as I turn the kids loose to play.

Mayhem.  Absolute mayhem.  As Kateri (my oldest) divvies up the loot (tokens), everyone takes off in a different direction.  I try to take a minute to appraise my surroundings.  Yelling, screaming, pushing, shoving.  Kids walking up the ramp of the game were you roll the balls into the holes.  They are dropping the ball into the 800-point slot so they can win more tickets.  Maddi (age 7), hollers down from the top of the play structure that someone threw up in there.  I put Gabbi, the contortionist, down so I can check if Maddi has crawled through someone’s yak.  Max (3), is walking from video game to video game, putting in a token and walking away.  Tristan (6), wants to ride on the little four-seater merry-go-round.  There is a girl on it who is screaming that it’s her ride and she doesn’t want anyone else on; her mother explains to Tristan and another boy that they can’t ride until her daughter is done.  Max has put half his tokens in the machines and given the other half away.  He wants more.  Gabbi is trying to sit next to a little girl on a mechanical two-seater car.  Her dad takes Gabbi by the arm to pull her off.  We lock eyes.  He lets her go.  Gabbi runs past the security checkpoint.  The fraulein is off flirting with a couple of young men in Raiders hats and baggy pants, sporting their ink – Boyz in the Chuck-E-Cheese.  I see a woman changing a diaper on the floor right next to the play structure.  I pick up Gabbi; she’s ripe.  I tell Kateri she’s in charge – good luck – as I head towards the restroom.  I already know there won’t be a “diaper deck” in there like there is in the Women’s restroom.  Arianna (9), is playing a driving game.  A little boy runs up and grabs the wheel.  His father, a heartbeat behind, collects him.  He tells the boy it is not his turn yet and looks at me apologetically.  I ask, “you get sent here with a coupon too?”  Finally, an understanding laugh.

Pizza is here. By the time I load the platoon into the booth, the pizza is scarcely warm.  Across from me I see a chubby girl.  The pizza she is eating is sending down rivulets of translucent orange fat down her cheek, culminating into a large droplet under her chin.  If this were Alaska, she would be forming an orange icicle.  Her parents tell her if she doesn’t eat her food, she can’t go play.  My appetite is gone.  What am I doing here?  Why here instead of the half-dozen, half-empty parks we passed on the way?  Wouldn’t even need a coupon.  Unfortunately, it wouldn’t have flown with the kids.  For the umpteenth time, I eye the beer and wine on tap at the register.  I wonder if they could just run a hose from the tap to my booth.

Back to the mayhem.  More running around.  More settling disputes.  More tears.  More tokens.  Finally, mercifully, the tokens run out.  Now comes the hard part.  What pieces of worthless, made in Taiwan, crap do we buy with all these tickets?  For one, a whistle (it will never make it home). Another, a kazoo (ditto).  Next, a clacker (refer to the whistle and kazoo).  A plastic slinky, a rubber snake (this one WILL make it home, in fact, it will find its way under Jenni’s pillow).  JJ (12), wants to save up his tickets for a cool pen.  I pay the difference now.  There is no way I want to leave with any incentive to return.  Now we’re off to the security checkpoint.  Fraulein peels herself off gangster number one to make sure all my children are still mine.  She looks upset that I interfered with her romance.  I feel bad – not!

The ride home is much more reassuring than the ride to.  I now have the kids that I am accustomed to.  Gabbi has already fallen asleep in her car seat.  Max is right behind.  It is hard to believe that I have just spent sixty-five bucks when I could have experienced just as much mayhem by simply taking them for a car ride.  What is it with that place?  I ask myself.  It’s simple.  The countless commercials embedded in every kid show.  The smiling faces, fabulous games and prizes, wonderful food, singing and dancing creatures.  I only wish they would show the other side:  The vomit, the grease, the junk.  Three out of eight toys have already been broken.  Now I will just need to intercept a couple more before they make it to the house.

The answer is ridiculously simple; parent guilt.  The continual feeling that not only are we obligated to do everything within our mental and physical (and let’s not forget fiscal) ability, but that if we do not, then we are setting them up for almost certain failure down the road.  When you couple that with the simple fact that parents will spend outrageous amounts of money on their children (my friend has a personal trainer for his ten-year-old son), you end up with an extremely effective marketing tool.  The formula is brilliant.  Three easy steps:  1. Inundate every show that children watch (even those that they are not supposed to, but researches show that they do) with advertising.  2. Sit back and let the pleadings of the children mix with the guilt of the parents.  3.  Count the money as it rolls in hand over fist.  And as a bonus, throw in a coupon and you’ll reel in some more.  I feel more than a bit sheepish as we drive past those same half-empty parks on the way home.  What does it matter that you saved twenty when you still spent sixty-five?

Mom gets the unrated version as the children stream into the house.  Someone puked in the play structure.  Max gave all his tokens away.  A girl wouldn’t let Tristan ride the merry-go-round.  I get the “what were you doing if you weren’t supervising the children?” look.  Since she is six months pregnant with our ninth, I am happy to give her a little peace and quiet at home.  If only it didn’t involve Chuck-E-Cheese.  I almost feel guilty about the one good thing that came out of that place – the rubber snake in my back pocket – almost.  She often comments that I am nothing but a big kid myself.  Who am I to prove her wrong?  This is my home, where a kid can be a kid.

Slowly, the caffeinated beverages wear off on the children and we are able to get them off to bed.  Only two complained of stomachaches, so for that we are fortunate.  Later that night as I watch news clips of the great game I missed on Sports Center, Jenni comments, “When I was putting Tristan to bed he told me that he wants to have his birthday party at Chuck-E-Cheese.”

OH SHIT!  I panicked.  “What?  I don’t care if it is double coupon day for his birthday.  The last thing you are going to do is to get me to throw Tristan’s birthday party there.  I’d rather throw a pool party at a leper colony.  Throw Tristan’s birthday party at Chuck-E-Cheese.  You must be out of your dang mind!”

The Spring Cleaning Bug bit me today and I’ve been scrubbing the kitchen like it hasn’t been scrubbed in…….oh, let’s see…..a year!  But all this cleaning and scrubbing brought me to a moment of wanting to share a quick reminder about cleaning.

When cleaning, start at the top and move down.  Geesh!  This is something we all know, but I could have used a reminder!  I looked at the floor and thought, “I’m going to tackle this kitchen today.”  After the floor I started the counters, the stove and the cupboards.  Guess what?!  It’s time to do the floor again!

Happy Spring Cleaning to all~

Yesterday, I took Gabi and Lex to run some errands.  We had finished the produce shopping at Henrys and headed to the check out.  They usually have balloons ready to be handed out at each check stand and the kids were excited to see them waiting.  They each picked their color, I paid for the groceries and we headed for the car.  Both the kids have had enough balloons disappear into the wild, blue yonder to know to hold on tightly to their strings.  They were very careful to keep their balloons close while I loaded the groceries.  We successfully got ourselves buckled in with a balloon at each child’s side.  Happy kiddo faces!  It was a beautiful San Diego day and we were ready to go home and unload those groceries.  Happy, happy, happy!

Hmmmm…….that blue sky sure is pretty! I think I’ll open the sunroof!  

Whoosh!  In one moment I undid all the happiness and hard work of my 2 year old.  

Good going, M.O.M!

Have a great day~

The Story of Tristan’s School Pants

When Tristan and Max were getting ready to go back to the Catholic school, I took out all the uniform pieces that I had kept and determined what we could use for this year and what needed to be bought.  All of Tristan’s pants from last year fit Max perfectly and we had plenty of shorts for both of them.  Shorts are what’s worn most often because of the weather and even on the “cold” days they put a sweatshirt on and are still happy with shorts.  But boys are required to wear pants on the days that the school attends mass.  So, I made a note that all uniform pieces were accounted for, except a pair of pants for Tristan.  This meant that a trip to the uniform store needed to be added to the calendar.  From that point I continued to get the boys ready to get back to school.  Many school supply items needed to be bought because the public school provided all the necessary pencils, paper, markers, glue and folders.  Shoes were on the list because sandals (which are what Max was wearing on all days except PE days) are not allowed and shoes must be either black, blue or white.  So, the list was long and getting them ready was time-consuming.  

They were finally ready and it was the first day back to their old school.  Uniforms on, backpacks packed and lunches in tow, they walked into their new classes.  We jumped back into the routine of the school.  Then, Friday rolled around and Tristan woke up in a panic.  ”I need pants!”.  Yikes!  I calmed him down, apologized for not buying the pants yet and told him I’d write a note to the teacher explaining that I forgot about the pants and that he’d have them before the next mass day.  Everyone accepted my excuse and apology and everything was fine.  Until yesterday…….Yesterday was 2 weeks since my note AND the next mass day.  Yep, M.O.M. had dropped the ball!  I knew I couldn’t send him with another note.  I quickly got online and looked up the uniform store’s hours and realized that if they opened at 10 am and mass was at 11 am, that I could send him to school in shorts, have him tell the teacher that I was going to the uniform store and would be back with the pants.  A great plan!  Nope!  Tristan was mortified at the thought of showing up, yet again, in shorts.  We agreed that he could stay home for the morning, go to the uniform store with me and then show up, in pants, for mass.  Whew!  I got everyone else to school and came home to get ready to run the errand.  By 9 am, I realized that he was needlessly missing class work and called the office for advice on my silly situation.  The lady in the office actually went to see if they had a pair of pants that he could wear for the day.  There was nothing in his size.  So, we agreed that I should drop him off at school, in shorts, go to the uniform store, buy the pants and drop them off for him in time for mass. Done!  I swear I’m out of breath just recounting this story!  

So, I loaded up Tristan and the 2 youngest kids, dropped him off at school, drove to the uniform shop (actually arriving 15 minutes before they opened which led me to the conclusion that I should use that time to find a Starbucks….and did!) ran in, grabbed 2 pair of pants, one in each of two sizes, drove back to the school, ran to the classroom, headed to the bathroom with Tristan and had him try on the pants.  Whew!  So, off he walked with his class, properly dressed and ready for mass.  His teacher was chuckling at me and the situation.

Dance of the Pants, done!

Have a great day~

Have you ever done something and immediately thought of what the consequences might be?

Last night I took Arianna shopping for some school clothes. While she headed into Old Navy to try things on, I decided to take a few minutes and go into Marshalls to look for some shoes for myself. I wasn’t carrying my purse, just my wallet, keys and phone. I decided it would be a good idea to hook my keys onto the the basket so they wouldn’t fall through and get lost. I made a mental note not to forget them. I need to remember that my mental notepad is out of paper and needs to be replaced! So off I go trying on and ultimately finding a pair of shoes to purchase. Then off to meet up with Arianna to see what she’s found. We spent a bit of time debating a pair of pants she wanted. We didn’t bring them home. Once we were checked out at Old Navy, I remembered that Mariah needed a book for school and hey, there’s a Borders right next to Old Navy. So into Borders we go to find the book. After buying the book and some coffee, I was beat and ready to head home. We headed for the van. WAIT A MINUTE! Where are my keys? In the bottom of the bag? My pocket? Where the heck could those keys be? AHHHHHH! “Jen, remember (remnants of the mental notepad trying to speak), you hooked them onto the basket in Marshalls so that they wouldn’t get lost”. No!

We started walking briskly back to the store in the hope that the basket would still be sitting in the same place I’d left it. Yeah right! No basket! I went to the counter and asked if any keys had been turned in. “No”. I explained what had happened and an announcement was made asking everyone to look at their baskets for keys hanging from it. I made a mental note to start listening to announcements because, hey, they just might be important! No one else made that note!

So begins my time in Marshalls, looking like a stalker. I sent Arianna outside to check the baskets that were lined up. Then I started walking the isles looking at each basket. Sometimes I had to say things like, “Excuse me, could you pick up those clothes? I just need to look at the back of the basket”. Ever try to explain something in 2 seconds? Not so good! I had people make many a comment to me. But after checking as many baskets as I could, I felt dejected and headed back to the front to see if they’d been turned in. Nope! It was time to make a phone call. The most frustrating part was that the other set of keys were sitting inside the van in my purse. If I would have just carried my purse in, I would have had 2 sets of keys and not had to worry about them falling through the basket to the floor. Another mental note, “carry your purse!”. I decided to check the baskets of the people in line. I uttered a little prayer to St. Anthony (patron of lost things and a good friend of mine) and headed to the line. “Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, YOU HAVE MY KEYS!”. Poor man! I am positive that either he didn’t speak english or he was dumb-struck. Every head turned to look at the crazy lady shouting a joyous shout at this poor man. “No, really! You have my keys. See, they’re right there”. He unhooked them and handed them to me. I held them high, gave them a jingle and marched victoriously out of the store. Whoo Hoo! I’m a lucky girl!

Thanks St. Anthony! I owe you!

DON’T HOOK YOUR KEYS ONTO A BASKET AND THEN WALK AWAY. Unless, of course, you want to play a game of hide and seek!

Have a great day~

I just read this article about a couple with 5 kiddos who were taking a vacation with them and left their 3 year old in the airport. I am sure that there will be a host of places that scorn them for their absent-mindedness and the lack of parenting skills. Really?! All I can say is that I feel for them! I can’t imagine the sinking feeling they must have felt when they realized what had happened and that the whole world was going to know.

Let’s all take a minute to remember the challenges we face each day and make an effort to be less judgmental toward other’s mistakes that we might not be judged so harshly on ours.

Sometime I’ll take a little time to share some of my “less glorious” parenting moments.

Have a great day~

It’s been a couple of tough weeks around here and I’ve had to face up to the fact that part of the problem is that I wasn’t taking my own advice. When summer began and the kids came home, I stopped writing the Morning Memo, stopped writing a detailed schedule and didn’t do a very good job of enforcing the chores. I, somehow, thought that everything that I had put into place would just keep running itself. WRONG! So, now I’m picking up the pieces and getting back to business. In letting things slide, I’ve realized that some of my kids’ behavior also slid. Geesh! Everything is connected!

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Good night~

 

 MOM 38 [10:22m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download (168)

Well, it’s official, there will be no parenting awards given to me any time soon! I have been increasingly off these last weeks and today took the cake.

Maddi has been at a Girl Scout camp since last Sunday. I have it written in my planner. I knew the name of the camp and what she would be doing there. Tomorrow, I planned on being at the pick-up site at 5pm. One problem….pick-up was TODAY! That’s right, today.

And where was I instead of picking my daughter up? Um…..at Bunko! Luckily Kateri was also on the pick-up list and was able to run over and get her. That’s a fine, “Welcome home” for you!

I did, however win $40 at Bunko. Does that make it better?

Good night~